Till Death Do Us Part
by Ichimu
Summary: AU Sango is the best spy in Tokyo. So good, in fact, that her superiors are getting frustrated. That’s when they give her a partner: the rookie Miroku. Now they’ve got to learn to work together or go down in smoke. SanMir
1. Slow Down

**Till Death Do Us Part**

By Ichimu

Disclaimer: All Inuyasha characters and themes do not belong to me, and I do not profit from posting fan fiction.

Author's Note: So, with Project Armageddon being so serious in general, and focusing largely on Inuyasha and Kagome, I thought I'd delve into a comedy starring Sango and Miroku. And this time, I thought it would be interesting to switch their usual roles; this time Sango is the one with everything under control and Miroku as the newbie.

Since this is a reprieve from the drama of Project Armageddon, this is going to be a light story with (I predict) shorter chapters. There will be quite a bit of action, lots of aliases, and, I hope, it'll be a generally good time.

AU Sango is the best spy in Tokyo. So good, in fact, that her superiors are getting frustrated. That's when they give her a partner: the rookie Miroku. Now they've got to learn to work together or go down in smoke. San/Mir

_Chapter 1, Slow Down_

The air rippled slightly as she winked and slipped into the bathroom. He leaned back on the pillows and sighed. As he listened to the silken sounds of her changing, he leaned over and turned on his laptop. He knew it was anal, but he just wanted to check that the files were still there. His fingers flitted across the keys and the file unfolded in front of his eyes.

"Perfect," he mumbled.

Two gunshots sliced through the quiet, and the bullets caught him once, twice in the head. His frame quivered in response. Then his eyes went blank and he crumbled against the headboard.

Kawate Sango stepped out of the bathroom. She grabbed the laptop and headed out the window. Her cell phone rang as she landed on the roof of a nearby building.

"Yes sir. Mission complete."

(-)(-)(-)

"Yes sir. You wanted to see me?"

Watanabe Domeki looked up from his paperwork, one brow cocked. Sango was standing in the doorway, the light pouring in from behind. She was dressed in a sharp pants suit that fit her tomboyish attitude like a glove. Her mahogany hair was piled on her head, and her dark eyes examined him with the coolness of a trained professional. One finger examined the contours of his desk as Watanabe Domeki nodded and motioned for his subordinate to sit. "Yes, Sango-san. It's time for us to have a little chit chat."

"What seems to be the trouble, sir?" Sango said, taking a seat across from him.

"We're assigning you a partner," Watanabe said.

"What?" Sango's eyebrows shot up, and her dark eyes flashed. "A partner? I work alone, sir. I don't need a partner."

"I know you don't _need _a partner," Watanabe said. "And that's precisely why you're getting one."

"I don't understand, sir," Sango said, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, Sango, let me put it like this," he said, resting his chin on his fist. "You're the best spy we have here. You've completed every mission we've given you with the utmost success and discipline. You have an almost unnatural talent for this sort of work."

"Thank you, sir, I-"

"So think of this as a kind of promotion," he proposed, clapping his hands together.

"I'd like to speak to the chief on this issue, sir, if that's quite alright," Sango said, setting her jaw.

"Ah yes, she wants to talk to me?" asked the man, popping his head into the room. Chief Yamada was a grizzled old man with dark eyes and a perpetual smile. He came to stand behind Watanabe. "So Sango, it's like this: you take the promotion because we said so. You're good at following orders, aren't you?"

"Not if they're given without explanation, sir!" Sango protested. "I don't need a partner, I don't want a partner, and therefore I don't understand why you're saying I have to have one! If you would just explain it to me-"

"You're too good," Yamada said.

"Pardon?" Sango said, drawn aback.

"You're too good. You're making the rest of us look bad," he said, his smile unfaltering. "Therefore, we're giving you a partner to slow you down a bit. Got it?"

"Sir?" Sango blinked.

"You're excused, Sango-san," Yamada said. "Your new partner should contact you in a couple days."

Sango walked out of the room, stunned and wondering what exactly had just happened to her.

(-)(-)(-)

Sango was sitting in the bakery, pretending to be reading the paper while she waited. Her new partner was supposed to be meeting her here, and he was fifteen minutes late. She would've left by now, except that the kid was bringing her new assignment along with him. She sipped her coffee and briefly wondered whether she could drown herself in the two inches of coffee sitting at the bottom of her mug.

"Hey, pretty lady. Do you need some company?"

Sango raised an eyebrow and looked over her paper. A handsome young man was standing there, grinning at her. He had black hair that was pulled into a short ponytail, ear piercings, and surprising amethyst eyes. He was carrying a folder.

"Sorry, but I'm not interested," she said looking back at her paper. She wished her new partner would show up.

"Ah yes? But you'll have to work harder than that to get rid of me. You see, I'm quite persistent," he warned, sitting down across from her. His hand brushed her knee.

"Sir!" she squeaked, blushing. "This is a public area and I would appreciate it very much if you would _get lost_!"

"Sorry, no can do. I'm supposed to meet someone here," he said.

"Your dimwitted girlfriend?" Sango asked, sealing her lips around her coffee mug to stifle the colorful language that was springing to mind.

"No, my new partner, actually. I think he's late," the boy said. He leaned in and winked at her. "You see, I'm going to be a spy. Pretty cool, huh?"

Sango started to choke on the bite of pastry she had just tucked into her mouth. The boy jumped up, turning white as Sango clawed at her neck. He grabbed her, lifted her out of her seat, placed his hands under her ribcage, and shoved his fist into her abdomen. The pastry bit flew across the bakery.

"Geez. You gave me a real scare there," the boy said, setting her down. "I thought you were going to die or something."

'At this moment,' she thought, 'I wish I had.' She smoothed her hair and straightened her shirt. Then she held out her hand.

"What?" he asked, blinking.

"The folder, please," she said.

"Huh? No, I'm sorry, but this is for my new partner. It's top-secret stuff from the government. I can't just go passing this stuff around."

"Oh, but you can advertise its existence?" she snapped, the thin cord of her patience beginning to burn her insides. She grabbed him and pulled him out of the bakery, tossing some money on the table.

She rounded the corner and pressed him up against the side of the building. People filed past, unaware and uncaring. Sango leaned in until her face was inches from Miroku's. "Look, you pig-brained, ignorant, self-righteous rookie-"

"Now, now, there's no need for insults. If you want to thank me for saving your life, you can just say so," he said, smiling at her.

Sango screamed in frustration. "You idiot! _I'm _your partner!"

"Oh," Miroku said smartly.

Sango ripped the folder from his hand. It was a routine mission. She was to go to a gallery party, meet a certain gentleman involved in such and such illegal activity, gain access to his study, and swipe the files. She looked up at the boy. "Your name?"

"Takara Miroku," he said.

"Kawate Sango," she responded.

"So, I guess this is the part where we make some kind of pact, right?" Miroku asked.

"What nonsense are you spewing now?" she snapped. People were shouting across the street, pictures were being snapped, and someone was crying. Her mind flashed to a crime scene, and her heart began to pound in her skull. But when she looked again, she saw the people part to make way for a woman in a white dress. She was grinning broadly. The man at her side placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Well, y'know! Like in the movies. Partners are supposed to make some sort of agreement, right? Like, 'We'll do this or die trying,' or 'Let's see this to the end.'"

"Do they always involve being together until an inevitable end?" Sango questioned, looking at the man help his new bride into the limousine.

"Always," Miroku said. He followed her gaze to the wedding and laughed. Sango looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Ok, partner, till death do us part."

Sango blushed in spite of herself and shoved the file into her bag to review later. Toying with a piece of her hair, she gave the boy a quick once-over. As she calculated the dimensions of his dinner jacket, she could see the next few months unfolding before her.

Her superiors had found the perfect idiot to slow her down.

- Ichimu


	2. The Bowtie

Disclaimer: All Inuyasha characters and themes do not belong to me, and I do not profit from posting fan fiction.

Author's Note: Hey! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, and a very happy new year! My birthday's come and gone, and with another year, I've gained extensive knowledge. I'm so wise, in fact, that I'm going to shave my head and move to Tibet to become a sage.

No, I'm just kidding.

Yes, well, here is the second chapter. And the translations. Thank you everyone for you reviews! It's really wonderful to get feedback, both positive and constructive. Your reviews have helped me think more about the characters that you got a taste of in the last chapter, and I hope we can continue to work together to make this an enjoyable story for both authoress and readers. Thank you again!

Translations:

-chan- A friendly, familiar suffix that is usually used among girl friends. Boyfriends may use this with their girlfriend, as well. It is also commonly used to address children and pets. It gives a sense of childish cuteness,

Kitsune (kit-soo-nay)- Like our western foxes, Japanese foxes spirits (or kitsune) have two popular portrayals: cute, sympathetic creatures, and cunning, mischievous characters. They usually have magical powers, including the ability to imitate, but they are usually portrayed as solitary hard workers.

Kitsune-bi (kit-soo-nay-bee)- Kitsune fire.

-sama- A formal title for people of higher status. This is for people you wish to show deference to, and places a clear distance between the addresser and addressee.

-san- Miss/Mr./Mrs. This is the standard form of address, just as in the west.

_Chapter 2, The Bowtie_

"I think you're overacting, Sango-chan," Kagome said as she checked her heart rate. They were at the company gym, working on the treadmills. Their personal trainers were keeping a close eye on the machine read-out while the two girls talked.

"Yeah, well, you haven't seen this guy," Sango said, dabbing her forehead.

"How bad can he be?" Kagome asked. "You'll just have to try him out on the field." She turned to her personal trainer, reported her heart rate, and turned back to Sango. They girls prepared to switch to the elliptical. "Anyway, you're such a good spy, do you really think he'll mess you up that much?"

"Regardless, Kagome-chan, I work alone. That used to mean something at this place," Sango said, scowling. She stepped up onto the elliptical and started working. "I used to have respect."

"You still do," Kagome argued, getting onto the elliptical beside her friend.

"Not for long," Sango said.

"Come on, Sango-chan! Give him a chance," Kagome pleaded.

"Hey, hey, Sango!"

Sango moaned and looked over her shoulder. Miroku was on the other side of the gym, waving at her. Everyone in the gym was looking at him, and he was just grinning from ear to ear and waving like an idiot. Then they all looked at Sango. Sango groaned and hid her face in her towel. "It's going to be a very long night."

(-)(-)(-)

"Are you even listening to me?" Sango asked huffily.

Miroku blinked and looked up from the collar of her low-cut shirt. "Hmm?" he asked.

Sango scowled and pulled her shirt up to her collarbone before continuing. "We're about to go in for our tech briefing, ok? You have to pay very specific attention to each and every tool you get, how it works, and what sort of situation you can use it in. These tools will very likely save your life, got it?"

"Do I get a sweet ride?" Miroku asked.

Sango flattened her eyes and without answering him, walked through the door. She toppled backwards, a furry weight clinging to her neck. Miroku reacted at once, kicking the furry bundle across the room with all his might.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sango exploded, jumping to her feet and running over to the creature that was twitching on the floor.

"It attacked you!" said Miroku defensively, not quite sure what he had done to upset her this time.

"He didn't attack me. He was hugging me," Sango said incredulously. She picked up the bundle, and revealed a miniature human-looking creature with ginger hair and a bushy tail. He was watching Miroku with narrow turquoise eyes.

"Uh, hey…" Miroku said, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at Sango and the corner of his mouth twitched. "You're going to tell me now that he's an important dude, right?"

"Miroku, this is Shippou, the head of the tech department. Shippou, this is-" Sango started.

"The new idiot, huh?" Shippou said, his small, pudgy arms crossed over his chest. "Make sure you watch your step in the lab. I wouldn't want you to trip over anything that could potentially turn on and zap you with a laser beam that would cause the most excruciating pain to your innards and leave you writhing in agony for the rest of your natural life."

"Yeah. Ok. Because that wasn't freaky," Miroku said, frowning and looking at Sango.

Sango laughed in spite of herself.

"Anyway, please step into the lab and we'll get you suited up," Shippou said, walking through the door. Sango and Miroku followed, although the latter did so with some slight hesitation.

The lab was a series of white rooms with chrome tables that were strewn with the oddest assortment of springs, cogs, nuts, and all other widgets. There were little people with tails all over the room, pushing buttons, testing gadgets, fixing and or oiling all different kinds of contraptions. The sound of whirring and clicking filled the resonant space, and at one point a small explosion shook the whole room.

"Sango," Miroku said as they walked, "what are these things?" He gestured towards one of the tiny people.

Sango raised an eyebrow at him. "Honestly, didn't you get the tour when you first got here?"

"Um, tour…right…" He'd been on the tour, for sure, but he hadn't heard a word his tour guide had said. He had been too busy observing how well her mini-skirt sat around her tiny thighs and nice-sized- "Sure, the tour. I must've missed it."

Sango rolled her eyes. "The labs are all run by kitsune. Their kitsune-bi is hot enough to melt most metals, and comes naturally from their bodies without releasing any harmful chemicals into the atmosphere. When the government cut back on pollution a decade ago, they filled their laboratories with kitsune. Besides, they're simply brilliant with technology."

"Oh right. Kitsune. Why didn't I think of that?" Miroku wondered aloud as he asked himself just what he had gotten into.

Shippou handed Sango a pen that encoded what it wrote down and could replay the sequence, a hairpin that contained a sleep-inducing drug, and a hand purse that took pictures when you pressed a secret switch.

"That's it?" Miroku asked when Sango had finished getting her equipment.

"A spy is not defined by the technology she uses," Sango said, raising her eyebrows coolly. She reached into her purse and pulled out a set of keys. She pressed one of the buttons, a hatch opened in the wall, and a silver Ferrari pulled into the room.

"Sweet!" said Miroku, running over to the car to address its curves. "What do I get?"

"Here ya go, rookie," Shippou said, passing Miroku a bowtie.

"What does it do?" Miroku asked, turning the bowtie around to examine it at eye-level.

"It's a bowtie, dumbass," Shippou said. "You wear it."

"Huh? Wait, it doesn't have a secret camera or a gun or something?" Miroku asked, flushing.

Sango rolled her eyes and Shippou frowned, saying, "No. It's just a bowtie. The dress is formal. You'll find a dinner jacket and shirt on your bed at home." He flicked his tail in annoyance and turned to Sango. In a voice just loud enough that Miroku could hear, he said, "What does he think this is? A movie set?"

Miroku sighed and looked down at the bowtie in his hand.

(-)(-)(-)

"Saito Reiko and Sanda Mutsu," Sango said, opening the file. A large diamond ring tumbled out of the contents. She held it up. "We're engaged." She slipped it onto her finger and passed the file to Miroku.

"Mutsu?" he groaned. "My name is Mutsu?"

"Deal with it," Sango said, looking over her information.

"But Mutsu?" Miroku continued. "It sounds like a baby's teddy bear, or a puppy. I can't go in there with that name!"

"You'll do what they say," Sango said, putting down her file. Her face had adopted a no-nonsense expression that distracted Miroku completely from her tight, wine-colored floor-length dress. "We've been engaged for six months, and we're known to have a slightly open relationship."

"Slightly? How do you have a _slightly _open relationship?" Miroku asked.

Sango rubbed her fingers together pointedly. "We have a weakness for generous offers." She crossed her legs, once again drawing Miroku's attention to the way the silken dress folded around her tiny frame. "You have a partnership in a private business that deals with investing. You hate talking about work. Your favorite pastimes are playing the piano and golf. We spend a lot of time traveling, improving your business relations. My hobbies include horseback riding, charity campaigns, and travel. Our marriage was arranged by our families."

"Great," said Miroku. "And I've got a bowtie."

They had arrived. The valet bounded over to the car and helped Sango out before accepting the keys from Miroku. They were at a huge villa. The reflections from the pool danced on one side of the estate, and garden lights illuminated the abundant foliage that threatened to exceed the garden walls. The doors were open, flooding the stairs with golden light. Sango was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Miroku took her arm and led her to the door.

Several couples that seemed to recognize them greeted them at once. "Other agents," Sango said in Miroku's ear. "They planted them here to make our story more believable."

"So, who's our man?" Miroku asked.

"We're looking for Watanuki Gousuke," Sango said. "He's been dealing in some illegal trade. We're just here to give him a warning. Try not to blow our cover, as our superiors have spent a lot of time setting up this alias and would like to recycle it."

"Ah, Reiko-san!"

Sango turned around and smiled stunningly at a beautiful young girl walking towards her. She looked vaguely familiar to Miroku. She took Sango's hands in hers and pressed them. "Darling, is this your mystery fiancé at last?"

"Yes, Ai-san, this is Sanda Mutsu," Sango said, smiling and indicating Miroku. "Mutsu dearest, please allow to introduce my dear friend Watanabe Ai."

"What a great pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mutsu-sama," said the girl named Ai. "I hope we will be good friends, and that I won't give you too much trouble." She smiled and then Miroku remembered: this was the girl that he had seen exercising next to Sango in the gym. Her name was Higurashi Kagome, he recalled. She was one of his superiors, and here she was, addressing him as '-sama'! He flushed slightly as he bent to kiss her hand.

"Please, Ai-sama, Mutsu-san will be fine. And it is an honor to make your acquaintance."

Kagome giggled behind her hand. "What a charming and handsome fiancé you have, Reiko-san!"

"Oh no, he's not really," Sango said, deferring to the chatter of polite society as she surveyed the room. Kagome was giving them the perfect cover in order to let Sango locate their target. Finally, she located him: a handsome young man by the bar. He was chatting with a red-headed vixen. Sango remembered her from the file. She was his current mistress, a Sicilian beauty that he had picked up on his travels. He was bored with her now, however, and ready to move onto something closer to home.

"Excuse me, Mutsu-sama, Ai-san," Sango said, dipping her head to Kagome, "I'd like to get something to drink."

"Should I get it for you?" Miroku asked.

Kagome swooped in and grabbed his arm. "So, Mutsu-sama, why don't you tell me about your last trip to England? Is it true that Stonehenge is as anti-climatic as they say?" She winked at Sango and led Miroku to the back of the room.

Free at last, Sango prepared her claws to pounce. With feline-like grace, she inched across the room, her sharp mahogany eyes fastened on Watanuki's face. She was still several yards away when she caught and held his gaze.

Excusing himself from his mistress's side, Watanuki headed for Sango. He had a boyish half-smile that reminded Sango of Miroku. "Well, hello there. It's Saito-sama, is it not?"

Sango blushed. "Oh, sir, I really don't deserve such credit. Reiko would be just fine from a man of your status," she said. She battered her eyes slightly.

Watanuki was hooked. "What brings you my way, Reiko-san?" he asked, examined the cut of her dress with his eyes.

Sango stifled a tiny sob. "Well, you see, sir, I came here with my fiancé, but he's left me to shamelessly flirt with another woman. He's so entrapped by her friendly attentions that I had to come over here to get a drink for myself."

"A lady should never drink alone," he said. "Allow me to accompany you to the bar."

"That would be lovely," Sango said, taking his arm. As they walked, they talked about nothings like travel and commerce. The ring on Sango's finger especially stunned Watanuki.

"Your fiancé must have quite the fortune," he said. "Or he must love you very much."

"Our marriage was arranged by our families," she said with a scoff. "But it is no secret that both my fiancé and I are quite secure in our financial situations." She ordered a cosmopolitan, and downed it in one foul swoop.

Watanuki raised his eyebrows and smacked his lips. "Well, you are an impressive woman, aren't you, Reiko-san?"

Sango hid her giggle in her hand. "I think I need a bit more to drink before I can accept such a compliment from you, Watanuki-sama."

"Then by all means," he said to the bartender, "get this lady another cosmo."

Sango chugged two more cosmos before she was on friendly terms with Watanuki. He told her to call him Gousuke, and she was so flattered that she accidentally whacked him in the chest. A swift movement and an undetected flick of her wrist secured her the pen that was tucked inside his dinner jacket. They were soon laughing and talking about more personable things: her horse, his childhood studying abroad, Rome, and the view from the top of the Alps.

"Excuse me, Watanuki-sama," said a spectacled man.

Watanuki frowned. "Is this the file?"

"Yes it is. I'll just need your signature."

Sango diverted her eyes. This wasn't what she was after anyway. She took a step back, probing her way into Watanuki's trust.

"That's funny," said Watanuki as he searched through his dinner jacket. "I can't seem to find my pen."

"Here, use mine," Sango said, producing the pen that Shippou had given her.

Watanuki smiled at her and signed the form. "How resourceful you are, Reiko," he said, handing the pen back to her.

"My fiancé likes me to carry a pen around always, just in case," she said, not bothering to blush. "But I am a very resourceful person."

Watanuki caught the bait with a suggestive twitch of his eyebrow and a subtle curl of his lip. "How resourceful?"

Sango leaned in close him. She took her ring off and tucked it into her purse. "Would you care to find out?"

Watanuki couldn't help himself. He grabbed her roughly around the waist. Sango pushed his hand away and looked around the room. "My, it's hot in here," she said rather loudly. "Excuse me, Watanuki-sama, I think I need to step out for a moment." She headed for the hall, and a coy glance over her shoulder beckoned the young man to follow.

He did so within the length of a heartbeat. As soon as they were alone in the hall, he grabbed her and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Sango sighed inwardly, counted to ten, and then pushed him away flirtatiously. "Sir," she said with mock propriety, "I'm engaged!"

Watanuki laughed and brushed a strand of hair from her neck. "Not for long," he said before planting a kiss there.

Sango pushed him away again and ran down the hall. She had to find his study, and quickly. She reviewed the floor plan in her mind. The blue prints flashed up, and she turned left down another hallway. Watanuki followed close behind. She took a quick right, and ducked into the second door on the left.

She had reached the study. It was a decent-sized room with oak paneling and many bookcases. A table on her right boasted a crystal set of scotch glasses and a shimmering bottle of the coppery liquid. She dashed over to it, pulled out her hairpin, bit off the end, and poured the contents into one of the glasses. She had just poured the scotch when two strong arms folded around her waist.

She spun around, starting as if she had been stung. "Watanuki!"

"Gousuke," he corrected. He was panting, and his long black hair was falling into his face. He smiled. "No need to play hard to get, Reiko. You'll quickly learn that I'm not a very patient man."

Sango fumbled for the prepared glass. "I just thought you might like a drink."

Watanuki took the glass and placed it back on the tray. "I'm not thirsty for scotch," he said. Then he had her in his arms.

"Watanu—Gousuke," Sango started. "I-"

"Sh," was all he said. Sango closed her eyes tightly, and tried not to tense up as his lips examined her collarbone.

"That will be quite enough of that."

Watanuki jumped away from Sango, and both turned to the doorway, where Miroku stood framed in the light from the hallway.

"Mi—Mutsu," Sango breathed, more relieved to see him than she would ever care to admit.

"What are you doing in here?" Watanuki asked, bristling. "Get out."

"Whoa, tiger. That's my fiancée that you've got your paws on," Miroku said. He crossed the room in two confident strides and grabbed Sango's wrist. "Come on, love. I wouldn't want you to get rabies." He had Sango halfway across the room before Watanuki lunged.

Watanuki grabbed Miroku's collar, but Miroku punched him in the stomach. Sango stood aside, unsure whether she should risk blowing their cover and help Miroku. As Watanuki stumbled backwards, Miroku grabbed Sango again and steered her towards the door.

Watanuki wasn't willing to give up without a fight. He started chasing them, and Miroku picked up speed to match their host's. "Geez," Miroku said, looking back over his shoulder. "Guess he doesn't like you much, hm?"

Sango said nothing.

Miroku looked back again. "Don't you have a gun or something?"

"I can't shoot him!" she protested. "And besides, my gun was in my purse, which I left in the study. We have to get back there, Miroku. I have to get the files."

Miroku didn't answer.

"You idiot! This whole mission is in jeopardy because of you! If you had just minded your own business-!"

"Oh, you would rather that I had left you to the mercy of that pervert?" Miroku asked.

"I had everything under control," Sango argued.

"Yeah, it looked that way to me too," Miroku said. His sarcasm was a punch in the stomach.

Sango stopped running. As Miroku turned to her, she slapped him hard across the face. "How dare you?"

Watanuki was catching up. Miroku pulled Sango around the corner and slammed himself against the wall. "Damn it!" Miroku said. Then, his face brightened under the dark mark of Sango's slap. He grabbed his bowtie from his neck.

"What are you going to do with that?" Sango asked, raising an eyebrow.

Miroku winked at her. He tied one end of the bowtie to a table, and the other to a chair across the hall. Then he took Sango down the hall a ways.

Sango regarded Miroku's trap with a curl of her lip. "Oh please, he'd have to be a complete idiot to fall for something like that."

Miroku said nothing. A moment later, Watanuki turned the corner. He saw Sango standing next to Miroku, and froze. Confusion spread across his face.

"It's no secret, Watanuki-sama," said Miroku with a smile that could melt metal, "that my fiancée and I have a very open relationship. I realize that I was being childish and territorial. My wife greatly admires you and your work, so who am I to stand in your way?" He gave Sango a little shove in Watanuki's direction, but then took her shoulder, as if thinking better of it. He raised an eyebrow at his host. "But, I hope that this means we can always be very good, and _generous _friends."

Watanuki blinked, but realization dawned on his face, accompanied by a devilish smile. "You're trading her for a business deal?" He laughed. "A man after my own heart, eh? I accept."

He took a step towards Sango, right over the bowtie. He tumbled down, earthbound, and the table and chair came down with him, followed by all the priceless pieces on top of the table.

Miroku laughed and walked forward. He knelt down next to Watanuki. "Yep, he's unconscious." He untied his bowtie, and returned it to its rightful place at his collar. He turned to Sango. "Now, I believe you have some business in the study."

As they walked to the study, Sango refrained from speaking to Miroku, who was glowing like a schoolboy who had just gotten an A on his exam. In the study, she retrieved her purse, used the pen, which had saved Watanuki's signature, to access his files, and used her purse to photograph the necessary information.

"Well, that as they say, is that," Miroku said as Sango snapped her purse shut. Sango turned away from him, hating the idea of congratulating him on the maneuver that had saved their mission.

'Dumb luck,' she assured herself. 'He's just got dumb luck.' "Let's go."

"Hold on. First, let's have a toast, shall we?" Miroku said.

"A toast?" Sango mind whirred and clicked. She went pale and whirled around. "Wait, Miroku! Not that glass!"

"What?" Miroku said, setting down the empty glass. The sound that exploded from Sango was somewhere between a hiss and a sigh of exasperation. "What's wr-?" He hit the floor like a sack of bricks. A moment later, he was snoring.

- Ichimu


	3. Flowers, Flicks, and, Of Course, Ninjas

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All Inuyasha characters and themes do not belong to me, and I do not profit from posting fan fiction.

Author's Note: Alright so, I had a really, really depressing two weeks. Therefore, I wasn't really in a funny mood, and I didn't feel like I could produce a good chapter without a little bit of humor. But I'm better now (kind of), thanks for any concern you might have had reading those lines about some person you don't even know. That was very kind of you. Have a great day, enjoy the chapter, and please, if you have an extra minute and there was something here that you liked or you didn't, _please review_ and let me know.

Translations:

Ja ne (jah neh): Casual goodbye, "see you later"

Konnichiwa (ko-nee-chee-wah): Hello, good day

(-)(-)(-)

_Chapter 3, Flowers, Flicks, and (Of Course) Ninjas_

Kagome almost slipped as she ducked out of the way of Sango's kick. She flipped over and jabbed at Sango's abdomen, but the girl twisted out of range. "You did what?" Kagome gasped. She kicked Sango's legs out from under her.

Sango struggled as Kagome's grabbed her shoulder and pinned her to the mat. "I asked for a new partner," she said. She kneed Kagome in the stomach and rolled away.

"Why did you do that?" Kagome wheezed. She recovered quickly and resumed fighting position. "I like Miroku-sama."

"Did you see how he handled that case?" Sango fumed, jabbing with her right.

Kagome caught her arm and hit her chin squarely.

"I think he's cute," Kagome said.

"Yeah, if you go for thickheaded, clumsy, idiotic rookies."

"He sounds like the perfect catch for you," Kagome chuckled.

Sango elbowed her under the ribs and Kagome coughed. They broke apart, Kagome massaging her ribs.

"You won, as usual," Kagome said, her one eye tightened against the pain. "Though you didn't have to win so roughly." She picked up her towel and began to dab the sweat from her forehead. "So, you wanted to switch Miroku out because he slipped up a little with the drinks?"

"Kagome-chan, he almost sacrificed our entire mission with his idiocy!" Sango barked, grabbing her towel and throwing it around her shoulders.

"But in the end, he saved you both, didn't he?" Kagome reminded her, smiling.

"Yeah, ok," Sango said, flattening her eyes. "That's only because it turned out that Watanuki has the mental capacity of a three-year old."

The girls headed for the showers. "Well, what did they say?" Kagome said as she turned on the steamy water.

"Who?"

"The superiors. What did they say about switching partners?"

"They told me they thought Miroku was the perfect catch for me," Sango growled. Kagome started laughing while Sango fumed, though it was unclear whether it was the heat of the water or her temper that was coloring Sango's skin deep scarlet.

(-)(-)(-)

Sango sighed as the taxi pulled away, leaving her alone on the steps of Mercy Hospital. The overwhelming bouquet of flowers in her hands was doing a terrible disservice to her sinuses, and her nose was red and itchy. Her short skirt and black pumps made her feel awkward, and she shifted from one foot to another before heading for the door.

The man at the desk looked up as she walked in. "Well, Saito-san, here for another visit?" He lowered his dark eyes to her shirt. Coming downtown had ruffled her a little and pulled her shirt down to an aggressively low place along her chest. The intern was more than willing to take full advantage of his view.

"Yes," Sango moaned, wishing for a free hand to slap him with. "I'm visiting my beloved Watanuki-san again."

"Well, you know where to find him," he said. He leaned over and, in one foul, fresh move, slapped her visitor's pass onto her chest. "Oops, how clumsy of me," he tried.

(-)(-)(-)

"Gousuke!" Sango chimed as she rushed into the room. Her face was split into a smile that had only cost the intern an intense thrashing.

"Reiko!" Watanuki said, putting down his book. "How wonderful to see you again."

"I missed you, my sweet!" Sango said, tossing her flowers to the nurse. The nurse sighed and placed them on the vastly crowded windowsill as Sango plopped onto Watanuki's mattress.

Watanuki excused the nurse before he turned to Sango and said, "You were just here yesterday. I won't believe that you miss me so much."

Sango giggled and ran her fingers up Watanuki's chest. "I don't mean it in that way," she said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Watanuki laughed harshly, and a feral light flickered in his eyes. "If I didn't have a sprained neck and a broken arm…"

Sango drowned out his next words with a kiss. "I can't wait until you're out of here." She leaned in close, so that her lips were brushing against his ear. He tensed tellingly to her touch. "Mutsu is going on a business trip to the mountains in two weeks. He wants me there, but-"

Watanuki's hand flexed and his eyes were fastened on her lips. "But?"

"He's invited you," Sango said, placing a kiss on his forehead. "He hopes that you two can discuss some business during the days. The nights, however…" She curled her scarlet lips into a coy little grin. "I suppose you like hot springs?"

A minute later, Sango had to call for the nurse; Watanuki had liked the idea so much that he had slammed his broken arm against the bedpost.

Sango left after that, since she had nothing more to discuss with the man. She ducked into the bathroom on her way out and changed into much more conservative clothing. She washed her face and pulled on a lovely pair of jeans. The intern didn't even glance in her direction as she headed out the door and right into a human wall.

Sango taught the pavement some colorful words before she was being helped to her feet and viciously apologized to.

"I'm so sorry! How clumsy of me! I-" He stopped mid-apology, as if he had choked on the words.

"It's alright," she said, patting the dirt from her jeans. Her sixth sense told her that the man in front of her was watching her. She bristled and glared up at him.

"Oh!" she managed.

"Konnichiwa, Sango," Miroku said, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I, um," Sango was amazed to find that she was blushing. She frowned and swallowed her embarrassment. What in the world did she have to be embarrassed about? What was Miroku doing standing in her way in front of Mercy Hospital anyway? "What are _you _doing here?" she spat.

"Me? I, well…" Now Miroku was blushing.

The two of them stood on the steps with lowered eyes and vague embarrassment spread across their cheeks. Sango toyed with the edge of her shirt until she saw that Miroku was watching her. She frowned at him.

"What?"

"No, it's nothing," he said. He smiled. "I like your hair down."

Before she could help herself, Sango had ripped her hair tie from her wrist and wrestled her hair into a lopsided bun. Miroku's smile faltered, and Sango's stomach fell to her feet. A moment later, the hair tie gave up and plummeted to the earth. Sango's mahogany hair tumbled down her back. She touched a tendril and muttered a weak "thank you".

"Anyway," she said, recovering. "I was just paying Watanuki a visit. Their very keen that the three of us keep up relations."

"Is that so?" Miroku said. He seemed distracted.

"Yes, that is so," Sango said. Another awkward moment ticked by on her designer watch. She realized that she still had her engagement ring on her finger. "Well, I guess I'll be going."

"Yeah, ja ne," Miroku said.

"Ja ne," she agreed. She started walking away. It wasn't far to her apartment from here. Maybe she could stop by the coffee shop and pick up a lowfat latte. Or maybe she would head to the bar; some alcohol might help slow down the peculiar racing of her heart. No, coffee would be better. It was still too early in the day to the bars. And coffee would be awesome for the slightly nippy weather. But then so would liquor. She was still reflecting upon the obviously pivotal topic when a cry from behind brought her around.

Miroku had called to her. He was still standing on the stairs of Mercy Hospital. His hands were cupped around his mouth as he shouted, "Movie at eight?"

Latte or liquor? Latte. "Sure!" Sango called back. She turned around and resumed her brisk pace. It wasn't until she had turned the corner that the brief exchange finally struck her.

"Oh no," she moaned, halting in the middle of the sidewalk and causing a bicycler to swerve into a trashcan.

Definitely liquor.

(-)(-)(-)

"I don't own anything!" Sango fumed as dumped the umpteenth shirt onto her bed. "All I have are work clothes."

Kagome leaned over the edge of the bed to fish through the assortment of clothing items that were piled on her floor. "This is cute," she said, holding up a scarlet top.

Sango's lip curled back. "I wore that when I did the Watanabe job."

"Ew!" Kagome said, throwing the shirt across the room. "Why do you keep that thing?"

Sango picked it up off the floor and tossed it back into her dresser. "I don't like to throw things away."

"Don't throw it away then, _give_ it away," Kagome advised. She frowned at a multi-colored fringy top-thing before pitching it over her shoulder.

"I don't think anyone would want the shirt that I wore when I drowned the chairman of the SDC in his own pool," Sango said, holding up a purple top that had a slit in the side.

Kagome shivered.

"How come you always know what to wear, Kagome-chan?" Sango moaned, looking at her friend, who was wearing an adorable sweater-dress and tights.

Kagome shrugged. "You know how to dress, Sango-chan."

"I know how to dress like a stiff, you mean," Sango corrected her, looking at yet another white button down shirt.

"If you don't like the way you dress, then change," Kagome said.

"Easy for you to say," Sango said, kicking aside a horrendously large pink skirt that she'd worn when she saved Takashi Gen from a dance studio that he was being hidden in.

"What's so hard about change?" Kagome asked, looking at her friend.

Before Sango could answer, the doorbell rang. "Shit!" she squeaked. She grabbed the bluish thing that Kagome was holding and ran out of her bedroom.

Sango fumbled with the piece of deep blue material as she staggered across the room. She got caught on a button, but seized the fabric and pulled it down. She grabbed the door handle and flung open the door.

Miroku was on the other side, looking fabulously casual in a shirt-vest combination and jeans. He smiled at her, and then the expression on his face changed. He took the door handle and closed the door very slowly.

Sango was left bemused and staring at the door. It took her several moments before she thought to look down at what she was wearing.

"KAGOME-CHAN!" she thundered.

Several minutes later, Sango tried the door again. Miroku was standing with his back to the door.

"Are you decent?" he asked, his eyes glued to the far wall.

"Quite," said Sango.

Miroku turned around. He smiled. "You look nice," he said in a this-is-a-friendly-compliment-from-one-friend-to-another-that-means-nothing-more-than-and-does-not-go-beyond-the-strict-boundaries-of-friendship way.

"Thanks," Sango said in a not-quite-so-wordy-but-completely-nonchalant way.

"Have fun!" Kagome called, coming up behind Sango and pushing her out the door. She tossed Sango her purse before slamming and locking the door.

"Well, I guess that's a very friendly way to say that you're banished for the evening," Miroku said, rubbing his chin like a sage.

"She brought it upon herself," Sango said.

Miroku laughed and offered his arm to her.

Sango hesitated. "What's that?" she asked.

Miroku chuckled. "Last time I checked, it's called an arm, and it doesn't bite."

Sango blushed before sliding her arm into his.

(-)(-)(-)

"What are we seeing?" Sango asked as they walked under the giant neon lettering that signaled the entrance to the movie theater.

"Ninja movie," Miroku said, handing her the ticket.

"Are you serious?" Sango asked, raising an eyebrow and examining the tiny scrap of pinkish paper. "Night of a Thousand and Two Deaths, the Sequel. Sounds like shit, Miroku,"

"It's…my favorite movie…" Miroku managed.

Sango almost choked on her words until Miroku started laughing. "You jerk!" she gasped.

"Ah, you should have seen your face," Miroku said. "Anyway, it's not about the _movie_."

"It's not?" Sango asked, blinking.

Miroku leaned in until his face was inches from hers. Sango felt the red creeping back into her cheeks. She cast a sidelong glance at the concession stand, just to have somewhere else to look.

"What?" she barked when she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Am _I_ teaching the master spy something?" Miroku said, blinking.

Sango frowned. "What are you teaching me?"

Miroku smiled crookedly and tapped the end of her nose. "If you don't know, I'm not telling." He rocked back on his heels. Sango took a deep gulp of air; she hadn't realized that she'd been holding her breath.

"What are you, three?" she snapped. All at once, she was being crushed under the weight of how many people were in the room, all those people who had seen the two of them so close together in such a public place.

"You're the one who does even know what I'm talking about," Miroku said, handing his ticket to the ticket-ripper.

They slipped into the theater just as the credits ended and got into their seats noisily.

As soon as they were settled, Miroku leaned over to her. "How many people are in the room?" he asked.

"Seventeen, plus the two of us," she whispered back.

"How old would you say they are?"

"Those two with their mom are four and eleven. The smaller one has to go to the bathroom. You can tell because he's rocking back and forth and tugging at his pants. The group to the left are all twelve years-old. They snuck out to see this movie. You can tell because the one girl keeps looking behind her like she's going to be caught and her friend left as we were coming. She was on the phone arguing with her mother. The boy next to her thinks she's really pretty. The guy behind us is about thirty-two. He loves ninja movies. He's got a mask tucked in his bag, just in case anyone else decided to cosplay for the film. The girl and the boy in the front are about fourteen. They're not dating, but she's in love with him."

"How can you tell?"

"Why else would she have come to see this movie?" Sango said, shrugging. "If they were dating, he would have let her pick the movie."

"Amazing," Miroku said.

"Why, thank-"

"You never stop," Miroku interrupted.

"What?"

"Even in this dark, quiet room, where you're perfectly safe, you're always on the job," Miroku said, shaking his head.

"Of course. It's not a job. It's a way of life," Sango said, straightening up.

"Why?" Miroku asked. "Why does it have to consume your life?"

The question struck a harsh chord on Sango's heartstrings. Someone was screaming. There was blood everywhere. She chased the memory away. "Because… That moment that you feel the safest…that's the moment when your world falls apart."

She was expecting as harsh reply, and braced herself for taunting words. She jumped as Miroku's hand closed around hers.

"You have me now, Sango. We're partners," Miroku whispered so that Sango could just barely hear him above the clashing of ninja fists. "So when you're with me like this, just be with me. Don't worry about work, ok? I'll look out for you."

A shiver coursed up Sango's spine and her eyes flashed to Miroku's face. He was smiling. His amethyst eyes glimmered in the half-light. The movie reflected in them gave the impression of moonshine drifting across a lake. Sango could almost taste the mountain air. Somewhere in the distance, her father was calling her in for dinner…

Sango shut her eyes against the memory.

"Uh oh," Miroku said.

Sango opened her eyes as reality rushed back to her. "What?"

"The four year-old just wet his pants."

Sango laughed until her ribs hurt.

- Ichimu


	4. Hot Bath Engagement

Disclaimer:

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of its trademarks.

Author's Note: I'm not dead! And, surprise! I posted!!

Summer has been so, so long.

Chapter 4, Hot Bath Engagement

The air in the mountains was almost intoxicatingly sweet when compared with the cramped, heady fumes of Tokyo. To Sango, driving out of the wide-reaching tentacles of the city was like going back in time. Small plots of grass collected, spread out, and became yards, fields. Bushes lengthened, stretched to heaven, and became trees, forests. The rolling hills of the Japanese countryside cradled lakes and small communities where people still remembered how to smile at one another. Birds sang, squirrels scampered, and she even thought she detected a crane arching its elegant neck over the steely waters of a pond.

The nostalgia was overwhelming.

Miroku sat beside her, and for some reason, seemed to be in a foul mood. He stared out the window and said little to nothing to her. Their driver, though talkative for the first twenty minutes, quickly lost interest in his passengers' monosyllabic answers and turned his attention to the winding roads. Eventually, the quiet was so stifling that he had to turn on the radio.

Towards the end of their trip, Sango reached under her seat and pulled out the canvas envelope that contained their mission. She unclipped it and passed Miroku his documents while she examined hers.

"More of the same," she said. "It's your job to find out as much about Watanuki's business as you can, and I'm in charge of keeping him willing to further your business arrangements. You're interested in investing in his company, which deals with the illegal weapon trade. He sells weapons to the world biggest terrorists.

"Our contact is one of our fellow agents working under the alias of an arms maker, specifically high-potency bombs. For all our present purposes, his name is Izuma Soushi. He'll be there with his "assistant", who you'll recognize as Kagome-chan. Her name is Watanabe Ai. We'll receive further instruction at the rendezvous point."

"Right," was his only comment.

"Any questions?" she asked.

"None."

Sango was mystified by his mood.

They reached the mountain spa no more than twenty minutes later, and were released onto their next mission. Sango kicked Miroku out of the car and then wriggled out of her comfortable clothes into a tight, low-cut shirt that brought her breasts to giddy heights and a pair of designer jeans. Putting the final touches on her make-up, she slipped out of the car.

Miroku gave her a quick once-over, but reserved comment. Sango walked past him at a swift pace. They checked into the spa and then made their way to their suite.

The suite was lovely; it had two bedrooms, each with a queen-sized bed and balcony, a kitchen, a sitting room, and two separate bathrooms. A huge smiling jade Buddha occupied the entrance hall.

The two had only just put their stuff down when a knock came on the door. Sango grabbed Miroku and hissed in his ear, "Go into your room and run the bathtub. Listen at the door, but be sure you're not heard."

Miroku disappeared obediently. Sango waited until she heard the water running and then went to answer the door.

"Oh! Ai-san!" she breathed in relief as Kagome's grin welcomed her on the other side of the door.

"Konnichiwa, Reiko-san!" Kagome said. She was wearing a button-down white shirt with a vest and skinny jeans. She wore thick-rimmed glasses, and her black hair was thrown up with the aid of a pencil.

"Well, don't just stand here in the hallway. Come in!" Sango said.

Inside, Miroku was waiting for them. Sango pushed past him and brought Kagome into the bathroom where the water was still running. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, the girls conversed in low tones.

"Have you swept the rooms yet?" Kagome asked.

"No, I haven't," Sango admitted. "Miroku and I only just got here."

"Fine. I'll get the boys on it. Until they sweep the rooms, you and Miroku be careful, understood? Both of our rooms have been bugged," Kagome said. "It could just be that he's paranoid and wants to make sure that his arms maker is credible, but we have to make sure."

Kagome reached into her small leather purse and fished around for a bit before she produced a small container of perfume. "It's laced with narcotics. I trust you'll know what situation to use that in. Otherwise, our gadgets are a no-go. The company wants us to be as low profile as possible. Keep your gun with you." She squeezed Sango's hand and walked out of the room.

For the next forty-five minutes, Sango kept the conversation limited to what times the springs were open, what she and "Mutsu" would have for dinner, wondering when Watanuki would come, and whether or not he would head over immediately. Miroku responded with as few words as possible. At the end of that lengthy, extremely boring forty-five minutes, room service came in the form of two very aerobic-looking young men. They "cleaned" the room for the next half hour while Sango and Miroku unpacked. At the end of their inspection, they handed Sango a clean bill of health, bowed, and walked out of the room.

Sango picked up her cell phone. "Moshi-moshi?"

"Oh sorry, this must be the wrong number."

"We're clean, Kagome-chan."

"So sorry… Yes, you have a good day, too." She hung up.

(-)

"I'm going out," Sango announced, grabbing her sweater.

"Where to?" Miroku asked, looking up from the business magazine he was skimming.

"Ice," she said, gesturing to the black container in her hand. "I might run into a good friend of ours. Stay here."

"'Kay," was all he said before returning to his magazine.

Sango shook her head and walked out the door. The machine was just down the hall. She ducked into the room and pitched the empty container into the dispenser. The deafening sounds of the ice tumbling into the bucket drowned her companion's stealthy approach.

"Yare yare, and who is this lovely lady?"

"Gousuke!" Sango exclaimed, jumping as his hand slid over the small of her back. She turned around, ice container in hand, right into a firm kiss. She broke away, blushing. "Gousuke, here?"

Watanuki chuckled. "I hope you noticed that I arranged for you and Mutsu to have separate bedrooms—he won't disturb us through those sound proof walls."

Sound proof was good. But Sango died a little inside as she trailed her finger along his shirtfront and coyly said, "How clever of you."

"I'm glad you agree," Watanuki said with a wry smile. "Now, close your eyes."

"Huh?" Sango said at once, panic rising to her chest.

"Come, turtledove. No sass. Just do as you're told." When Sango still hesitated, he smiled. "I promise I won't bite—hard."

'I think I'm going to vomit.'Sango's stomach did roll as she forced a laugh through her lips, but she closed her eyes and braced herself. There was some movement, and then a new, very heavy weight was introduced around her neck.

"OK, open them."

"What is it?" Sango laughed, examining the new weight with her fingers.

Watanuki held up a small pocket mirror so that she could observe her reflection. She was bedecked in an outrageous ('and outrageous expensive_,_'she added mentally) conglomeration of diamonds, each the size of a small coin. She forced a smile, though the brilliance was blinding her a bit, and managed, "Oh, Gousuke, they're lovely."

"I hope to see you in them when we dine in my private room downstairs. Shall I pick you up at eight?" Gousuke said, really getting into his charming millionaire act. He even had the shark-like smile going, splitting his handsome face from one ear to the other.

"Oh, but I've nothing to wear!" Sango protested.

"You'll find your dress on your bed. I hope it's to your liking."

Sango tried to imagine the piece of ribbon he would attempt to call a dress, but cringed at the thought. "I'm sure it's spectacular, my darling."

Watanuki frowned in thought for a moment, and then forward to plant a playful kiss on her earlobe. "And if Mutsu asks where you found the necklace-"

"Oh, Mutsu, darling, you'll never believe what I found mixed in with the ice!" Sango said in an affected voice.

Watanuki chuckled and kissed her, an action that gained him further abhorrence from Sango, since it involved knocking her ice bucket out of her hands. _Not romantic, _Sango though, looking down at the scatter flecks of ice.

"For now, sayonara," Watanuki said as he broke the kiss and took off with mock gallantry.

Sango kicked the ice out of her path, wiped her lips, and headed back to the room.

(-)(-)(-)

"Oh, hey," Miroku said when she walked in. "I guess this means I can move now."

"Har har," Sango snapped.

"Well, someone's in a mood," he said, putting down his magazine. "Do you want me to turn on a chick flick? We can grab a box of tissues, and sob our little hearts out over the Notebook."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Sango hissed, looking around at him.

"Isn't that what you girls generally do around this time of the month?" Miroku asked.

Sango flushed scarlet and threw the empty ice container at him. "I'm going to the hot spring."

"Sure, but make sure you get that millstone off from around your neck. We can't have you drowning," he said, poking his head up from where he'd hidden behind the recliner. "You find the strangest things in the icebox nowadays, huh?"

"Shut up!" Sango screamed, only because she didn't have anything else to throw at him. She fumbled for the clasp on the ridiculous diamond necklace, located it, and shoved the rocks, the price of which could support a small third world country, into her pocket.

"Ok, ok. Just one more thing and then I'll shut my mouth."

"What's that?" Sango spat, her patience really at its end.

"Some guy came in and left a dress—if you can call it that—on your bed. Said Watanuki wanted you to wear it to the dinner you were having tonight," Miroku said, standing and looking away from her.

"And you didn't say a thing?!" Sango asked.

Miroku smiled thinly and gestured to show that his lips were sealed.

Sango trumpeted in frustration and slammed the door to her room shut behind her.

(-)(-)(-)

When Sango walked out in her robe twenty minutes later, Miroku was gone. 'Just as well,' she thought. 'Who knows what that pervert would do if I walked out in nothing but my robe.'

Kagome was waiting for her in the hallway, and they walked down to the hot spring together, laughing and chatting about nothings. They passed Watanuki on their way, but a polite tip of the head was the only recognition Sango warranted. As he passed, though, he slipped a piece of paper into her hand. Opening it, Sango found his room number scribbled across it. She threw the paper into the trash bin around the corner.

The hot springs were outside, enclosed on one side by a high fence, rendered unnecessary by the heavy amount of foliage, and on the other by the mountain itself. It was nighttime now, and little candles floated on the steaming surface of the water like lost souls searching for homes. A nightingale crooned in the thicket. Kagome and Sango slipped out of their robes and ducked into the irresistible heat.

"Konbanwa, Reiko-chan."

Sango nearly jumped out of her skin at the proximity of Miroku's voice. She whirled around, and dared him with her entire frame to come one step closer. "Mutsu…what the hell are you doing here?"

"I thought you'd be happy to see me, my sweet," he cooed, even as he walked over to Kagome. "My dear Ai-san, how wonderful to see you again." He scooped up her hand and placed a firm kiss upon it, his eyes fixed on hers so intently that Kagome flushed.

"Oi, baka, get your stickin' paws off of her before I leave you in doubt of your manhood," hissed a nearby voice.

Kagome, Sango, and Miroku all looked across the spring, where a white-haired young man stood, his golden eyes flashing in his handsome face.

"Inu- Soushi!" Kagome stuttered in a mixture of relief and humilation.

"Izuma Soushi?" Miroku inquired.

"Who wants to know?" he asked, one black brow twitching.

"Sanda Mutsu," Miroku said, holding out his hand.

"If you want your balls cut off, by all means, keep holding her hand," he said. Miroku released Kagome's hand at once.

"Miroku, this is Inuyasha," Sango said, massaging her forehead with the heel of her hand.

"So this is the new idiot?" Inuyasha asked, giving Miroku a quick once over as he moved between him and Kagome. "Man, they weren't kidding when they said they were slowing you down, Sango. Kagome may not be able to shoot the broad side of a barn, but at least she's got a head on her shoulders."

"Gee, thanks, Inuyasha," Kagome said, a dangerous look in her eyes.

"Miroku…Mutsu, may I talk to you for a moment?" Sango said. She grabbed Miroku by the arm before he had formulated a reply and dragged him across the spring.

"What's up?" Miroku asked, his face pinched with discomfort.

Sango noted this and released his arm. "Look, I don't need you embarrassing me in front of the others."

"I'm embarrassing you?" Miroku asked.

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" Sango said, flattening her eyes.

"Well, forgive me, your majesty," Miroku said, his tongue smacking the roof of his mouth as he gave a very sarcastic bow.

Sango flushed as surely as if he had struck her. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, did I embarrass you again? Or did I just ruffle your imperious feathers?" Miroku asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Look here!" Sango said, shoving her finger into his chest. "I am a top-class agent. I have run more missions than you could ever dream of. I have killed tens of people in cold blood. You- you- what have you done so far but get in the way?!"

"In the way am I?" Miroku shot back.

"Yes! In the way! You're always slowing me down!" Sango thundered.

"Well then, have a lovely evening, Reiko," Miroku said. With that, he turned his back on her, grabbed his robe, and marched out of the spring.

Sango stood in the water, trembling despite the heat.

- Ichimu


	5. Brandied Kisses

Disclaimer: All Inuyasha themes/characters belong to their rightful owners (not me). Please do not sue.

Author's Note: A short chapter to follow a long absence. I apologize. I will update soon, though. I promise.

Chapter 5, _Brandied Kisses_

How dare he? How dare he! That pig-headed, slow, inconsiderate, womanizing ass! How dare he have a temper tantrum and leave her in the hot spring. He was letting some petty little argument sacrifice the success of their entire mission. And it wasn't as if she had told him anything but the truth. It wasn't as if it was _her _fault.

…was it?

Sango froze mid-rant. Perhaps she had been too hard on him…?

The _nerve! _Now he was just trying to get her to feel sorry for him. Of course, he wanted _her _to break down and apologize. How dare he?

How dare he ask her to dance?

"Is something wrong?" Miroku asked.

"Nothing is wrong with _me_," she snapped pointedly.

"Oh, good." They continued to waltz, and his hand was warm against her bare back.

He was slick; that was for sure. He was as smooth as honey, perhaps smoother, and he was a fantastic dancer. If Sango had been in a better mood, she would have to admit to herself (and _only _to herself) that he was the better dancer of the two. He had a warm, fast smile, and beautiful amethyst eyes. He carried conversations thoughtlessly, and was never out of place in social situations. He was bright. There was a charm in his good-natured mistakes, even. If was wasn't so incompetent she would—

She stopped herself. She would what? Sango set her lips in a firm line. Such thoughts were wasted on a hardened, experience warrior like herself. She'd blame it on the music, the heat of the room, and his general proximity to her. Not to mention the alcohol. Speaking of alcohol…

"I want another drink."

"I'll get you one. Wait here." He left her, and the heat of the room went with him. She sat down. It was still only six-thirty. She had another hour and a half before Watanuki would come to pick her up.

While she waited for her drink, she rearranged her dress. It was emerald green. The satin against her flesh made her feel exposed. It was a halter dress with no back, revealing the ugly scar along her spine. She pressed her back further into the chair and hoped no one was looking. Watanuki's diamonds felt like they were choking her. Her mahogany hair was twisted expertly up from the nape of her neck. She hesitated to say that she looked even maybe a little bit lovely.

"Your drink, my angel, my only."

She jumped a little at Miroku's sudden appearance beside her. She accepted the champagne, and downed it in one swig while Miroku turned to observe the dance floor. The liquid barely made a splash.

"It's a lovely resort, isn't it?" Miroku said.

"Yes," Sango agreed, her tongue smacking against the roof of her mouth.

Couples swayed across the dance floor, the women dressed in fascinating jewel tones that glimmered in the low, warm light. The men wore tuxedoes, and most had a distinguished, worn quality to their faces that revealed the erosion of time. The scene brought back painful memories, and Sango had to look at her feet. "May I have another drink?"

"Finished already? Champagne again?"

"Something stronger."

"Wine? A cocktail?"

"Brandy, if you please. A big one."

Miroku raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He turned on his heel and went to fetch her drink.

She had come back from the spring to find him dressed for dinner, to which he presently invited her. He had been entirely warm and cordial, and as much as that infuriated Sango, she couldn't risk blowing their cover by letting him go down to dinner alone. So, she had thrown on the dress that Watanuki had left, and attacked her make-up kit. In less than ten minutes, they had reached the banquet hall. Dinner had taken each of them about thirty minutes, and then Miroku was on his feet, beside her chair, with his arm extended, asking her to dance.

She turned as Miroku approached, and accepted the rectangular glass of caramel liquid.

"You look flushed," Miroku said concernedly. "We should get some air, don't you think?"

"Flushed?" she felt her cheeks. "Yes, yes I think so." Anything to be away from the floor of moving bodies and sensual music, she added mentally.

Miroku took her arm and led her out of the room. A rice paper door slid open, and they were standing in a beautiful, traditional Japanese garden. A little ways away, round stepping-stones served as a path across the water to a small wooden structure that was silhouetted in the moonlight. The air was cool and fresh. Sango breathed deeply the scents of her childhood.

"How did you get that scar?"

Sango shied away from him. "It's none of your business." She took a gulp of brandy. It burned as it went down and she coughed.

"Slowly now," Miroku said, steadying her. "There's no need to rush. I can always get you another."

Sango frowned and stepped away from him. "I'm fine," she said, pulling herself up. To prove it, she began walking through the garden. Miroku followed closely, and she could feel his eyes on the back of her neck.

"The mountains are really beautiful," he said. "Growing up in the city, I always wondered what it would be like to live out here."

"It has its charms," Sango said.

"You lived here?" he asked.

"I grew up in the mountains, yes," she said, looking away from him. She brought the brandy glass to her lips again, but only took a sip this time.

"Your family must be very wealthy, then." Miroku said, smiling.

There were crickets chirping, and fireflies danced in the shadows. Sango could swear that somewhere in the brush, she detected the musings of a nightingale. "They were. And they spoiled Kohaku and I."

"Your brother? I didn't know you had—"

"I don't," she snapped. "He's dead."

Miroku stopped walking. She knew that she was shaking. She took another drink, and then another, deeper drink. "I don't know why I told you that," she said, wiping her lips.

"I'm sorry," Miroku whispered. "I didn't know."

Sango laughed and wagged her wrist flippantly. "Oh, it happened so long ago. I'm over it now, believe me." She took another drink.

"Sango, I think you should stop now," Miroku said, eyeing the last bit of brandy that sat in the bottom of her glass. "You've had enough."

"No, no. It's fine. We're opening up to each other, right? I mean, isn't this what partners are supposed to do?" The moon slipped behind a cloud and their little grove was drowned in shadow. She couldn't see him. Somehow, it made it seem like she was talking to herself. "They came on a night like this one. We were having a party, and then all of a sudden, there were gunshots and everyone started falling."

"No more Sango, please," Miroku said.

But she couldn't stop. The fireflies were swirling around her. "I was sixteen. Kohaku was only eleven, only a child. They took him, they blindfolded him. They gave him a loaded gun, held a gun to his head, and told him to shoot. He shot my father. A second bullet hit me in the back. I woke up a week later in the hospital. I was recruited three days later."

She swayed. Miroku caught her. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I just feel a little dizzy." She looked at him. The moonlight flooded the grove, and illuminated his amethyst eyes. Was he…

"Give me your glass," Miroku said.

Sango staggered to her feet. She took her glass and downed the remaining liquid. Her fingers were tingling. She smiled at Miroku. "You know what I feel like doing?"

"The only thing you should feel like doing is going to bed, Sango. You're drunk," Miroku said.

Sango leaned forward, tripped on the fabric of her dress, and tumbled into Miroku's arms. She giggled. "Oh my, I'm sorry. So sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Sango, I'm taking you to bed. Right now."

"My, you're handsome when you're bossy," Sango teased, brushing his bangs from his eyes.

Miroku frowned. "Not right now, Sango. That's not fair."

"What's not fair? I'm just saying, you look very sharp in that tuxedo. Why, if I were maybe a little more drunk, I could almost k-"

Her next words were muffled as his mouth closed around hers. She shut her eyes and slid her arms around his torso. He was so warm. His arms enveloped her, pulled her closer.

"Miroku," she whispered. She kissed him again. "Miroku, you-" He kissed her.

"Sango, I need to tell you something. You have to listen, ok?"

"Mm," she murmured. She was so light-headed and warm and comfortable. It was a dream, right?

And then she leaned over and retched all over his black shoes. She straightened, frowned up at him, and blacked out.

- Ichimu


	6. A Mother's Memory

Disclaimer: All Inuyasha characters/themes belong to their rightful owners (not me). Please do not sue.

Author's Note: Alright, there should be no complaints about this post as it is arriving 6 days after the last! This is another rather short chapter, however. Please forgive me—my creativity happens in sporadic, short intervals.

Please review, and tell me what you like/dislike! I promise that I take all reviews into very serious consideration. Plus, getting them makes me a happen author. :)

_Chapter 6, A Mother's Memory_

"I want to die," Sango moaned. She was lying in her bed, her torso propped up by a plethora of pillows. A bag of ice teetered precariously on her brow, which hurt too much to even furrow. She was pale and agitated, and her mahogany hair was caked with sweat.

"Nonsense," Kagome snapped. "Not after I worked so hard to keep you alive." She was sitting at the end of the bed, taking notes on a big clipboard.

The knock that sounded on the door only made Sango moan again. "Come in!" Kagome chimed.

Miroku popped his head in, smiling uncertainly. "How's our invalid?"

Kagome's mouth twitched. She put down the clipboard, grabbed the doorknob, and turned to Sango. "We'll be right back, Sango-chan," she said before slipping through the door. In the hallway, her cheerful mask trembled and then shattered under Miroku's penetrating amethyst gaze.

"She was poisoned, Miroku," Kagome said. "If she hadn't thrown up, she'd be dead right now. Even still, I was racing against the clock to mix together an antidote for her."

"Poisoned?" Miroku gasped. "But who could have-?"

"Who brought her drinks last night?" Kagome asked, nervously clicking the pen in her hand.

"I did," Miroku said.

Kagome narrowed her eyes, and looked Miroku over once. "I see. Who poured the drinks?"

"I did," Miroku said again. "I wouldn't trust the bartender."

Kagome's mouth twisted again. She bit her lip. She clicked her pen furiously. Finally, she sighed. "I'm sorry to say this, Miroku, but I'm going to have to send you in to headquarters for testing. Sango is our best agent, and we can't risk losing her."

"You mean that you think _I _poisoned her?" Miroku asked.

"I'm saying that it's a possibility," Kagome said. Seeing the pain that flickered across his face, she quickly grabbed his arm. "I don't thinkthat you did it, Miroku-sama. I'm saying that it's a possibility, and I would be operating under my office if I didn't take all precautions to ensure Sango's safety."

"Well," Miroku said, crestfallen, "can I at least say goodbye?"

Kagome frowned. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Miroku." She turned to go back inside, but Miroku grabbed her hand.

"Please, Kagome-sama."

Kagome stepped away from the door. "Five minutes," she said. "And then I'm coming in."

The gratitude was apparent in Miroku's eyes. He kissed her cheek, and then darted inside the room.

(-)(-)(-)

"How are you doing?"

Sango cracked one eye open. "Peachy," she said, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

"I brought you something," Miroku said. His boyish grin was as brilliant as ever, though, Sango thought, somewhat timid. If she didn't know any better, why, she'd say that he was _blushing._ He reached into the jacket pocket of his sharp suit. He secured something there, and then pressed it into Sango's palm.

It was a beautiful comb to be placed in her hair. The main feature was a red sazanka in full bloom. A spring of Japanese mountain laurel dripped down from the red blossom. A great crane graced the body of comb. Sango flushed at the gift. "Th-thank you," said whispered.

"It was my mother's," Miroku explained. "She lived in the mountains, and her mother owned the comb before her, and her mother before her, and so on and so forth."

"I can't possibly accept such a gift," Sango said, trying to give it back, but Miroku raised his hand.

"My mother has no daughters, and I don't think that would look too fetching in my hair." He laughed. Then, he added more seriously, "I _want _you to have it. It's a present."

Sango blushed and put the beautiful gift, far more valuable that Watanuki's diamond trophy, on the table next to her bed.

"How much do you remember of last night?" Miroku asked, looking at his feet.

Sango shook her head, which was as muddied as a Tokyo puddle. "Honestly, I remember going out into the garden to get some fresh air. I remember some fireflies, and I remember hearing you speak, but that's about it. That poison really did a number on my mind. I'm sorry if I made no sense whatsoever last night. I really can't recall a thing that I said."

He seemed somewhat sad to hear that, which made Sango wonder more than ever what exactly had happened last night. She'd had the peculiar feeling ever since she'd regained consciousness that she was missing something important.

"Why?" she asked, trying to pull courage from the air. "Did something happen that I should know about?"

Miroku looked at her, and then looked away. He smiled. "No, just a bunch of drunken nonsense from both parties."

Sango flushed. "I didn't do anything un-!"

"You were the perfect lady," Miroku interjected quietly. His face fell, and he took her hand. A warm feeling swelled in her stomach, and her entire body ached for a sensation that she only half-remembered. She tried to keep the unexpected blush out of her face, and if Miroku saw it, he gave no indication. "I have to leave for a few days."

"What? Why?" she asked, before she could help herself.

"I'm being called back to headquarters," he said. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He stood, but still held onto her hand. "Take care of Kagome-sama, but especially that Inuyasha while I'm gone, ok?"

"Miroku…" she started.

"Don't worry. It's all a misunderstanding that'll be cleared up soon," he said, winking at her.

The moment ticked by, and then froze. They stared at each other, holding hands. Sango forgot about the pounding of her head; the feeling was numbed by a stronger, gentler emotion that was budding in the pit of her stomach. Words hung suspended in the air between them, and Sango felt her lips buzz, pining for a pressure that for some reason, felt familiar.

"Sango, I just want to say-" Miroku said, in a soft, husky voice that thrilled and terrified her. She pulled her hand away, and the fragile moment shattered.

"Have a safe trip, Miroku," she said, turning her gaze to the opposite wall. "I'll tell the others that you were called away on urgent business."

"Yes," he said. "I'll see you back in Tokyo."

"Sayonara."

"…Sayonara, Sango."

The door clicked shut. The pain came crashing down on Sango, and she sank back into the pillows. Kagome opened the door and asked if she wanted anything, but for whatever reason, all Sango felt like doing was crying.

(-)(-)(-)

By nighttime, Sango felt well enough to move around the room. She could walk from one side of the room to the other without collapsing from dizziness, anyway. So, she poured herself a luxurious bath, and sank into the steamy liquid. Because she was feeling extra frivolous, she turned on the bubbles and added some sort of bath liquid that made the water sapphire blue. It smelled like jasmine. She toweled off, rubbed jasmine-scented moisturizer into her skin, blow-dried her hair, slipped into a silky blue robe, and stood in front of the mirror.

She was ethereally pale from the day's tribulations. Her lips were streaks of reddish flames. Her eyes were large and dark in her face. She went back into her room and returned a moment later with Miroku's mother's comb.

She tied her hair up the way that her mother had taught her when she was a little girl. She could still hear her mother's voice, flickering along the edge of her consciousness, shying away from each attempt Sango made to grab hold of it.

_Sango-chan, hold still for me._

_Sango-chan, what am I going to do with you?_

_Can I have a cookie, hahaue?_

Her mother's bell-like laughter was unforgettable. Her dark eyes crinkled in the corners and danced in the light. _After dinner, Sango-chan. There, you're finished._

_Hahaue, someday will I be pretty like you?_

_You already are pretty, Sango-chan._

Sango tucked the comb into her mahogany hair, and took a deep breath before looking at her reflection.

She was stunning. And for some reason, it made her sad that Miroku couldn't see.

There was commotion in the hallway, and Kagome was saying, "Sir, please! You can't go in there!"

The bedroom door flew open, and Watanuki stood there in a dinner jacket, his arms laden with flowers. Kagome was right behind him, flushed and flustered. Sango frowned and hesitated a moment on the threshold between the bathroom and the bedroom.

"Reiko, my darling, I heard that you are unwell, so I flew to your side!" Watanuki said, with a sick imitation of chivalry.

"She's got the flu, and she's supposed to be in bed. Please, Watanuki-sama," Kagome pleaded. Watanuki glanced over his shoulder at her, dismissed her with a curl of his lip, and crossed the room to Sango.

The movement flicked a switch in Sango's head. "Oh, Gousuke, thank you so much for the beautiful flowers! Ai-san, would you be so kind as to find a vase?"

Kagome tightened her lips and grabbed the white roses from Watanuki's hands. She stormed out of the room, but paused a moment in the doorway to stick her tongue out at Watanuki's back.

Watanuki took Sango's hands. "My dear, I was so upset when you missed our dinner date last night, but as soon as I heard that you were sick in bed, it was all forgiven, of course."

"Why, thank you, Gousuke," Sango said. She wished she could trigger her upchuck reflex. "I was positively crushed, believe you me, but it was unavoidable, you understand."

"Perfectly. And may I just say, you look ravishing," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said. Now she _really _wanted to die.

"What a pretty little robe this is," he said, fingering the material where it lay across her collarbone. He leaned in so that his face hovered just above her neck. She shivered with contempt as his warm breath oozed across her naked skin. "You smell like jasmine." He placed several quick kisses on her skin.

"Gousuke, I-"

"It's alright, Reiko, darling; I heard from my assistant that Sanda Mutsu left this morning on urgent business." He bit her shoulder, and it was all she could do to keep from digging her heel into his foot. "So, I have you all to myself. Shall I order champagne?"

"Don't bother," Sango said with a venom that she couldn't keep out of her voice.

The comment excited him. "You're right. Why bother with foreplay?" He grabbed her and kissed her. She wished she hadn't brushed her teeth. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, down her throat. She closed her eyes tightly.

He grabbed her butt. She jerked away so quickly that she lost her balance and fell onto the bed. Her robe fell off her shoulder. Watanuki jumped onto the bed, too, and started kissing her neck, her shoulders.

"Gousuke, please," she pleaded, trying to push him off of her. "Stop, please."

"It's my experience, Reiko, that when girls say stop, all they need is a little bit more coaxing. Maybe I should have gotten that champagne after all." His kisses were moving lower. Her skin was covered in goosebumps and she trembled with loathing.

Then, he grabbed her hair, and pulled her head back. She screamed, but it was too late. A sharp crack cut the air, and Sango's heart sank.

"Get off!" she shrieked.

Gousuke pulled back. Sango sat shaking on the bed, trying her best to hold back the tears as she reached up and plucked the two broken halves of Miroku's mother's comb from her hair.

- Ichimu


	7. Narcotic Niceties

Disclaimer: All Inuyasha characters/themes belong to their rightful owners (not me). Please do not sue.

Author's Note: What a nice collection of reviews! They were very thought provoking, and I enjoyed reading them a great deal.

In a staggering new resolution-both this story and Project Armageddon are slated to be finished before the end of this year. I am moving to Cali and am planning my wedding, and have a lot on my plate stress-wise, but I'd love to get these finished! I'm going to try to say one update weekly-we'll see how that goes.

Reviews are always appreciated.

_Chapter 7, Narcotic Niceties _

It was a beautiful morning, which Sango resented with every bone in her body. It was sunny and warm. She stepped into her stiff black dress and held up her hair as the maid zippered her up. She leaned in close to the mirror and applied some color to her face. She toed her way into her black heels and buckled them. She took her purse from the end of the bed, and walked out into the hallway.

"Sango-san," said the man at the end of the hallway, "should you be walking?" She recognized him as her father's best friend. His arm was in a sling, and his head was bandaged. He was one of the lucky few. His wife hadn't been so lucky.

"It doesn't hurt," she lied.

They walked down the stairs together, and climbed into the black limo. She didn't cry. Her back ached, but she wouldn't sit, wouldn't show pain. She bowed to the people who approached her. She exchanged empty words of thanks, and listened to thousands of condolences. She poured sake over the graves of her father and brother, her uncles and aunts, her three-year-old cousin, her neighbor, her best friend… She clasped her hands in prayer and knelt down in front of the graves in her dress, dirtying her knees.

The sun shone brilliantly above in the cloudless sky. The day's warmth pressed down upon her back and eased the throbbing pain in her wound. The doctors had told her that she was lucky to be alive.

What did they know?

"Sango-sama?"

Sango looked up. There was a young lady with black hair and dark eyes. She was dressed in black like a mourner, but Sango had never seen her before.

"My name is Higurashi Kagome," she said softly. "I hope I won't cause you too much trouble." She paused and looked around her before kneeling down beside Sango. "On behalf of Sector 4, my father, and myself, I'd like to extend our deepest sympathies and condolences."

"Sector 4?" Sango asked.

Kagome blinked. "Your father never spoke of Sector 4?"

"Never," Sango said, looking back at the grave. "There was a lot my father didn't speak to us about."

"It's where he worked. Your uncles, too," Kagome said. "My father and yours worked together. They were close friends. Your father was one of the best on the force."

"What are you saying? What is Sector 4?" Sango asked.

Kagome leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your father and uncles were Tokyo's finest, most skilled spies."

"Spies?" Sango echoed. "But then…"

"That's right," Kagome said. "The attack was far from random."

Sango narrowed her eyes and looked Kagome over carefully. She had an honest face, and her dark eyes were filled with a sympathetic frown. If there was one thing her father had schooled into her, it was how to read people, and this Kagome girl wasn't lying. "Why are you telling me this?"

"What if I told you that Sector 4 is interested in your assets as the daughter of Kawate Shigeki? What if I told you that they would give you the chance to avenge your family?"

Sango looked at the long line of graves before her. She looked at the crowd of mourners. She stood, and Kagome stood with her. She turned to Kagome. "Where do I sign up?"

(-)(-)(-)

When Sango woke up, there was an envelope and a small wrapped box on her nightstand. The envelope contained a long-winded, two-page novel of an apology letter from Watanuki. The box contained a replacement comb—a beautiful hand-painted piece of ivory. Sango sighed, left the items on the nightstand and went for a shower. When she was dressed, she left a note for Kagome, and headed to Watanuki's suite.

Watanuki was dressed in a stunning robe of rich silk, lounging on one of the room's many sofas with a laptop in front of him. He smiled warmly and invited Sango inside. His bodyguard sidestepped out of the doorframe to allow her entrance, eyeing her with a sidelong glance as she walked past.

"I'm sorry to call so early," Sango said, looking right into Watanuki's smug face.

"It's fine—I've been up for hours with work anyway," Watanuki said. "I'm so sorry about that comb, my darling. I understand all about sentimental attachment, but I hope my gift was somewhat conciliatory."

"It was beautiful, Gousuke. Thank you," she said, her eyes on the floor.

"Should I call for some tea? How are you feeling today?" he asked.

"No, no tea, thank you," she said. "I'm still feeling very weak, but better."

"Will you sit?" he asked, motioning to the sofa on which he sat.

"Thank you," she said, coming over to sit next to him.

"Now, what is it you came all the way down here to talk to me about?" Watanuki asked, putting his laptop aside, and taking her hands in his. Sango's eyes flickered over the screen face, but a screen saver concealed whatever Watanuki had been working on.

"I wanted to apologize about last night," she said, forcing a light blush into her cheeks. "I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful for your kindness…or unaffected by your advances.

"Not at all," Watanuki said. "I know the game very well, my turtledove, and I've played it many times. As I'm sure you know, it's hardly a chase without some resistance."

"You're very generous," she said.

"It's in my nature." He smiled.

"I can see that." His smile grew. She shifted so that her skirt slipped up a little along her thigh. "I'm so relieved to hear that you're not sore. You see, Mutsu left yesterday on some very important business, and well," she paused and giggled. She leaned in closer and much to Watanuki's pleasure, placed a little kiss on his lips before continuing. "He asked me to make a good impression. He's ever so eager to secure your business."

"Is he?" Watanuki asked, smiling as he slid one hand up Sango's exposed thigh.

"He only trusts me with his _best _clients," she said, swallowing her pride as she licked his ear.

"Sato?" Watanuki called.

His bodyguard appeared. "Sir?"

"Take a hike. Don't be back for…" he stopped as Sango discreetly unbuttoned his topmost three buttons. "An hour."

"I don't think that's a very good-"

"I didn't hire you to hear your thoughts," Watanuki snapped viciously. "Get lost right now."

"I'll be waiting outside if you need me," Sato said. "If I hear anything suspicious..."

"Yes, thanks, mom," Watanuki snapped.

Sato bowed and walked out the door.

Watanuki grabbed Sango forcefully around the arms and pushed her down on the couch. Sango's stomach turned as he lowered himself on top of her. Just a few more minutes, she coached herself mentally.

"You smell ravishing," he said, lifting his face from the crook of her neck.

"Do you like it? Mutsu gave it to me for my birthday."

"Mm," he managed. He was starting to slow down, his movements becoming less focused. He moved to her shirt and fumbled vaguely for the buttons. He laughed. "It's divine."

"Are you alright, sweetie?" Sango asked as he abandoned his quest and tried to kiss her neck, though he missed and kissed the throw pillow instead. He laughed again, realizing his mistake. Sango slipped out from under him neatly, a motion that surprised him and caused him to sit up and refocus.

"Where are you going, my minx?" he asked, smiling crookedly.

"Aren't you going to follow and find out?" Sango asked, looking over her shoulder.

Watanuki leapt up from the couch, and weaved along the hallway to the bedroom following Sango. He almost knocked over a statue on his way. Sango rolled her eyes as she unbuttoned her shirt and kicked off her shoes. She turned slowly so that Watanuki could get a good look at her lacey, black corset before she slipped into the bedroom. Watanuki stumbled inside. She ripped off his robe, and pushed him on the bed.

"Reiko," he said huskily.

She climbed in and kissed him firmly on the mouth. He shivered, and then went limp. The narcotics in her perfume had taken effect at last. "Sweet dreams, sicko," she hissed, standing and pulling her hair up into a ponytail, out of her face. She mussed the satin sheets around him, and smeared some lipstick marks on his face and chest. When she was finished, she ran out into the sitting area, where Watanuki's laptop lay open for her perusal.

She pulled out her cell phone.

"Kagome-chan, I'm in. Ready to start decoding?"

Thirty minutes later, Sango had relayed all the information available at her fingertips. She started the shower. Then, she wiped the laptop keyboard, carried it back into Watanuki's room, and rubbed his prone fingers along the keys. He responded with a vague murmur, but a quick kiss on the lips had him snoring again in seconds. She dashed back to the sitting area, replaced the laptop, and waited for the screen saver to pop back up. When everything was arranged to her satisfaction, and with five minutes remaining, she stepped into the shower, and rubbed her neck to free it from any residue of the narcotics. She removed the antidote patch under her arm. She wrung her hair dry, got back into her clothes, and stepped out of the bathroom just as Sato was walking down the hallway.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, pulling her shirt closed. "You surprised me."

"Where's Watanuki-san?" Sato asked.

Sango covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. "Sleeping."

Sato frowned. "Typical. Well, then." He gave her a wholly disapproving once-over. "Is there anything else?"

"Just my shoes," she said, gesturing to the articles, which lay on the floor behind him. He stepped aside so that she could collect them. "Oh! And…" she hurried back into the room, and grabbed her engagement ring off the floor. "Wouldn't want to forget this," she giggled. She allowed herself to be led to the door.

"When he wakes up," Sango said, "tell him it was…_unforgettable_."

"I trust you have everything you came for," he said, turning away from her.

"Oh yes," she said, smiling as the door was slammed in her face. "Everything."

(-)(-)(-)

"We're very impressed, Sango-san," Watanabe Domeki said as Sango entered his office. "Very impressed indeed."

"Thank you, sir," Sango said, sitting down.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Much better, sir," Sango said, fighting back the heat in her cheeks. "Thank you."

"No clues as to who might have tried to poison you?"

"No, sir," Sango said. She adjusted her blazer, bidding time while Watanabe Domeki checked his email.

"Takara-san is in today," Watanabe said, his eyes still glued to the screen. "Have you seen him?"

"Miroku?" Sango asked, looking up.

"The same." Watanabe's eyebrow twitched in response to her exclamation.

Sango collected herself. "No, sir. I haven't seen him."

"Well, go find him. He's got your next assignment. You'll be flying out to England within a week. To investigate some of Watanuki's allies." Watanabe still hadn't looked up from his email. "That will be all, Sango-san."

Sango stood, bowed, and left.

(-)(-)(-)

Miroku was in the weight room, bench-pressing. His sinewy arms shone with a thin layer of sweat, and his face was flushed with the heat of exertion. He caught sight of Sango when he sat up, and motioned for her to wait for him. He grabbed his bag out of the locker and headed for the showers.

Sango stood in the hallway, a rock in the pit of her stomach. She was acutely aware of Miroku's mother comb, which sat, rolled up in a handkerchief, in the bottom of her purse. She charged through scenario after scenario, and decided that there was no good way to tell Miroku that she was responsible for the shattering of a family heirloom.

"Hey," Miroku said calmly, coming up behind her and startling her badly.

"Hi," she said, collecting herself quickly with a faint blush.

"Here's the assignment," he said, holding out the folder to her. "How's your English?"

"Impeccable," she answered, in English. "My dad had me tutored from an early age."

"Mine's decent enough. I learned in school, and well, from movies. The mainstream route, I guess," he said sheepishly, also in English. Sango cursed silently to herself when she realized that his English was in fact more authentic-sounding than her own.

"We're American students studying at Oxford," he said. "Kimberly Takahashi and Joseph Hamada."

"Great. I can't wait." Sango said, tucking the file into her purse. Her fingers brushed the handkerchief. She swallowed hard, preparing herself, "Listen, Miroku."

"I know. I'm sorry I left so abruptly," Miroku said. "I almost sacrificed the success of the entire mission…again."

"No, no, it's not that," Sango said, surprised.

"I hear that you did pretty well on your own," Miroku said, looking at the ground.

"Well, I-" Sango started.

"I guess you really are a lone wolf type, huh?" Miroku said.

Sango put her hand on his arm to shut him up. "Miroku, I wouldn't have been able to get those files if you hadn't given me an in. I owe you." She replayed the words in her brain a second later as Miroku's expression softened and a smile formed on his face. What in the world was she saying? Of course she was a lone wolf! She didn't need anyone! She could have weaseled her way into Watanuki's confidence with the subtlety of a chainsaw, and Watanuki still would have been too distracted by her curves to notice. Men were easy, expendable. She didn't want Miroku as a partner, and she certainly did _not _need him!

"-this evening?" Miroku was saying

"What?" Sango asked.

"What are you doing this evening?" Miroku asked.

"Um," Sango said, suffering slight mental whiplash from moving too quickly from her inner dialogue to this one. "Nothing."

"Dinner at seven? I know this great French restaurant," Miroku said.

"Seven?" Sango repeated. "Like a date?"

"No," Miroku said immediately, laughing.

"No," she repeated, laughing as well. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it."

"It's fine," he said. "No worries." He started walking away. "Seven then. Dress is business casual."

"Right…seven," Sango said, watching Miroku turn the corner and feeling more than a little bemused. "Seven."

-Ichimu


	8. Date Night?

Disclaimer: All Inuyasha characters/themes belong to their rightful owners (not me). Also, I lay no claim to any Tokyo or London establishment. Please do not sue.

Author's Note: Yay! I fulfilled my promise! :)

Anyway, I'd love it if you sent me a review-they're wonderful to see in the email. Hope you like the chapter (even if it's a tad short), and that you keep reading!

Translations:

Hajimemashite: How do you do? This is a customary greeting at introduction.

Yoroshiku: Pleased to meet you, but also, a request that the person you are meeting will like you and be friendly towards you.

Kochirakoso yoroshiku: The customary response to yoroshiku: It's I who should ask to be liked.

_Chapter 8, Date Night?_

Sango pulled her new blouse out of the shopping bag. It was ruby red with beautiful lacey detailing along the bust. Tiny buttons gave it a stylized, almost Edwardian look. A cream-colored sweater and black pencil skirt completed her look. She took out a simple silver necklace and tiny hoop earrings. She picked up Miroku's mother's comb, and sighed.

A knock on the door brought her around. She jumped into her heels, dropped the comb on her unmade bed, grabbed her clutch, and rushed to answer the door before Kagome could ask questions.

"Miroku!" she said, leaning against the doorframe for support as she smiled. He was dressed in a blue-striped button-down with a grey blazer and khakis. In one hand, he carried a bottle of very expensive Pinot Noir. He looked…remarkably handsome.

He smiled back, though the boyish look was gone. "Konbanwa, Sango," he said in a half-whisper. He offered his arm, she gripped her ruby-red clutch like a lifeline, and they were off.

(-)(-)(-)

The French restaurant was cozy and practically empty. A couple sat in the corner, sipping coffee and barely speaking to one another. The four other tables were unoccupied. The waiter whisked a reserved ticket off one of them, and lit the candle. Miroku pulled Sango's chair out for her, and motioned for her to sit. When she had done so, he scooted her chair in and took his own.

They had said nothing the whole ride over. Now, Sango almost jumped as a "so" broke the silence. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," Sango said with a smile. "Thank you."

Their waiter came over, passed out the menus, and poured their bottle of wine into two crystal goblets. By the time he had finished, both Sango and Miroku had placed their orders in such exquisite French that the waiter suspected they might be tourists. He slipped away into the kitchen.

"French too?" Miroku said with a crooked smile. "What is it you don't do, Sango?"

Sango flushed and looked at her wine glass. She went to lift it to her lips, but Miroku frowned. "What is it?" she questioned.

"Can I taste it first?" he asked, pointing at the plumy liquid.

She gave him the glass obligingly. "What was it you said last time about not always being on the job?" she asked, laughing.

Miroku didn't laugh. He sipped the wine and waited. After a minute, he passed it back to her. "I believe the reason that I gave for you relaxing was that I'm here now."

"To taste test my alcohol?" Sango said, taking her own sip.

"Whatever you need," he said, smiling.

Sango looked at the ceiling in order to avoid those enchanting amethyst eyes. "How do you like work so far?" she asked.

"Well," Miroku said, fidgeting and fixing his shirt in mock nervousness, "when I started my partner was a real jerk, but I think she's warming up to me."

Sango kicked him, and grinned in satisfaction as the pain registered across his face. He was still rubbing his shin when the waiter came with the salad course.

"I was wondering if after this, you wanted to go with me to Rikugien," Miroku said when the pain had subsided and their salad plates were empty.

"The park?" Sango asked, confused.

"Just for a walk," Miroku said.

"Um…"

"We have two more courses for you to think about it," Miroku said, laughing.

(-)(-)(-)

Rikugien had been built during the Edo Period. It was filled with traditional Japanese landscaping, a beautiful lake, and a sprawling network of walking paths. Under the fragrant canopy, it was almost possible to forget that one was in the middle of one of the largest, most bustling cities in the world. Sango and Miroku walked along one of the paths, laughing and chatting about the people at work, the Night of a Thousand and Two Deaths ninja movie they had seen together, and the people they passed in the park.

Miroku bought her a snow cone, and they sat down on a bench over-looking the lake, which shimmered with the reflections of a million fluorescent lights.

"I can't remember the last time I was on an actual date," Sango said. When Miroku's head snapped around, her face flushed and she stammered, "N-not that this is a date! But, I mean… I should have said I can't remember the last time a guy took me out for a nice dinner when I wasn't going to kill him afterwards." She felt like socking herself in the face. Did she always sound this awkward?

"Well," Miroku said at length, "I hope you're not planning on killing me."

"No," Sango said, too firmly. Miroku laughed.

Then, Miroku stood and walked over to a nearby blossoming tree. He plucked a flower from it, and twirled it in his fingers. "My parents used to bring us to this park when we were kids," Miroku said.

"'Us'?" Sango echoed.

"My brother Kyoden," Miroku said.

"I didn't know you had any siblings," Sango said, licking her snow cone.

"I don't," Miroku said. "Not anymore."

Sango dropped her snow cone. It fell in the mud, and the colored juice rushed out across the blades of grass. "I'm sorry," she muttered, her eyes on the remnants of her dessert.

Miroku smiled and came back to the bench. His fingers brushed against her cheek-she dared not do so much as draw a breath as he pushed a strand of mahogany hair behind her ear, and placed the flower there. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

Sango could say nothing, stunned by his proximity.

"Sango…" he breathed, so very close to her. "There's something that I have to tell you."

Sango turned her face towards his so that they were just inches apart. Her head was filled with a warm, dizzy sensation and her limbs were tingling dimly. And his lips…she couldn't tear her thoughts from his mouth. She looked at his eyes, and then she was certain. "You…you kissed me!" she gasped.

Miroku blinked. "What?"

Sango jerked back as though she had been burnt. "You kissed me! In the garden in the mountains-! I was practically unconscious and babbling from that poison, and you took advantage of-!" She slapped him across the face and stood.

"Sango, that's- I mean-!" Miroku stuttered.

Sango turned so that he couldn't see the embarrassment bring moisture to her eyes, and strode away. How dare he? How, how could he? She tore the flower from her hair and broke into a sprint. She wasn't even sure that she was headed home.

The memory was rushing back now. He had drawn her into his arms and kissed her firmly on the mouth. She couldn't remember what she had been saying, and his words ran together like paint dabs on a wet canvas, but the sensation pressed down on her. She could almost feel his mouth encircling hers once again, and as she ran she attempted to leave it behind.

When she got home, Kagome wasn't in her room. There was a note on the microwave saying that she'd gone out with Inuyasha. "Perfect," Sango moaned before crawling into her room and crashing, face-first, into bed.

(-)(-)(-)

Sango and Miroku met the next evening at 6:30pm in the Narita International Airport, carrying large suitcases filled with American-style clothes and trinkets provided by Sector 4. They bought dinner and sat across from one another until it was time to board. Not one word was exchanged. They sat next to one another on the flight, so Sango popped a sleeping pill, rolled away from Miroku, and fell into unconscious bliss for the rest of the flight.

(-)(-)(-)

I had been years since Sango had seen London, and she had to admit that the energy of the city was, while wholly different from Tokyo, wholly thrilling. They had dorm rooms set up for them in Oxford-Sango's was a beautiful, sprawling oak room in a honey-colored quad that was meant for a princess, not a college student. Miroku's was a much more humble and modernistic quad verging on the description of ugly. Sango made a note of it so she could be sure to stay far, far away throughout their assignment.

They went to class that morning, collecting syllabi after syllabi and chatting with the other students. Both Sango and Miroku were in the humanities division, pursuing history and economics degrees. Sango became fast friends with a British girl named Margaret, who had grown up in the same town as their target. Miroku, meanwhile, focused his attention on their lovely teacher, an Irish woman named Dr. Kieren Casey.

"Kim, wait up!" called Margaret after class. Sango was making a beeline for the quad-hoping to avoid Miroku at all costs, but when she heard Margaret, she whirled around and affected a smile.

"Oh, hi!" she chimed. "Sorry-so totally out of it right now."

"Not a problem-Wondering if you wanted to join me for a bit of lunch?" Margaret asked.

"Oh, sure," Sango said. "That'd be great."

On their way off-campus, Sango spied Miroku having a 'spot of tea' with Dr. Casey in her office. 'Wastes no time,' she thought with such venom that her frame shook.

(-)(-)(-)

"Kim, this is Peter Clay," Margaret said, jumping up from the table and grabbing the arm of a young man walking by. "Peter, this is Kimberly Takahashi."

The man who turned to shake Sango's hand was, well, _very _handsome. He had brilliant blue eyes, black hair, and a proud carriage. Peter was, of course, their target. His father was one of the richest men in London, his mother, from one of the most influential families of Tokyo. Peter was attending Oxford, currently pursuing his doctorate in the humanities division, and focusing on history as well as economics. Sango and Miroku had been assigned to swipe his dissertation.

"Lovely to see you again, Margaret. Kim-san, hajimemashite. Yoroshiku," Peter said with a roguish smile. Sango felt herself blush.

"Kochirakoso yoroshiku," Sango responded through her desert of an esophagus.

"Won't you join us?" Margaret asked.

"Sorry-meeting some mates of mine," Peter said quickly, jerking his thumb at some chaps near the bar.

"Oh, alright then," Margaret said, clearly disappointed.

Peter nodded briskly to the two of them, and then dashed off. His friends greeted him boisterously, filling the bar with their hoots as Peter ordered a round of drinks.

"I've always had a crazy crush on him," Margaret said, sighing. "He's our age, but he got pushed way ahead in school due to tutors and his magnificent mind. I never had much of a chance to interact with him… He's the kind of guy that every girl falls for I suppose."

Sango nodded vaguely, already wondering what kind of girl a guy like Peter would fall for. She needed to get close to him, get her hands on the dissertation, and head back to Tokyo before exams. This wasn't going to be like Watanuki. This was going to take _time_. But, then, she mused as she caught Peter's bright blue gaze from across the room, she didn't think she'd mind taking her time here…

-Ichimu


End file.
